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Chapters (83)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY TOM CLANCY
  3. PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
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  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Paul, I apologize for losing my temper. You just have no idea about the pressure I’m under. You know how unreasonable those bureaucrats at Langley can be. They’re breathing down my neck.”

“I understand. And trust me, it will be taken care of today.”

“Without fail?”

“Without fail.”

“I knew I could count on you. And thanks again, Paul. You’re doing a helluva service for your country.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and be sure to tell Jack hello for me.” Rhodes clicked off.

Paul shut his phone. Weston Rhodes was still a horse’s ass, but it was his country that needed him now. Paul put a beefy hand to his throbbing head.

My country might have to wait a few more minutes.

Paul used his arms to lift his unsteady frame from the chair, heading for bed. He limped up the stairs, leaning heavily on the handrail until he reached the landing. He shuffled past Jack’s bedroom. The lights were off, the door ajar. He pushed it open a little more. The bed was still made.

Paul frowned. He wondered if Jack was with Lian, having sex. They seemed close. But that wasn’t good, at least from an auditing perspective.

50

SINGAPORE

Jack approached the front of the north-facing warehouse. Two glass doors were locked and secured. A red flashing light told him they were alarmed. No one appeared to be inside, but he wasn’t prepared to try to defeat an electronic alarm system. He decided to check out the rest of the steel building. Like the other warehouse and storage facility, the property butted up against the bay for loading onto a vessel and no doubt had rear doors for access.

Jack double-checked to make sure he wasn’t being watched and stayed out of the sight lines of any security cameras he saw, pulling the bill of his Ravens ball cap over his eyes to further hide his identity. He made his way along the west side of the building, stopping at a steel door. It was padlocked. There wasn’t a window to look into. He pressed forward.

The full moon was covered by high storm clouds. He passed as quietly as he could along the rest of the seventy feet of steel wall, guided by the dim light of a sodium lamp high overhead. At least the wall gave him shelter from the windblown rain coming out of the east. When he reached the back, he squatted low with a grimace and looked around the corner. Rain pelted the bill of his cap.

A square of light beamed out of an open loading-dock door halfway down the platform. There weren’t any trucks or vehicles in the bays or any movement in or out of the open doorway.

But over the din of the pouring rain he heard voices. Talking, laughing.

In Chinese.